Forgiveness

Looking back on all of the relationships I’ve had with men in my past; the sexual relationships; the relationships that deteriorated shortly after the words “I love you” were spoken, or, at least, began to decay around the time that similar words were thought of, only now do I start to question (and hopefully understand) the effects they may have had on me.

This will not be an episode on “Woe Is Me TV”.

I used to believe so very deeply in love. I believed in the love that was shared, nurtured, protected, and given between two people in a relationship. I envied this love when I saw it in people I knew. There are times I have still had pangs of jealousy when I see “them” walking hand in hand through the park. When I had my first experiences with this kind of love that I had been idolizing for so long, I was ecstatic. I could not wait for this newfound experience to grow into what I had been wishing and hoping for so long. These relationships did grow, and they did become quite special. They have each aided in the formation of the groundwork, foundation, and much of the first few floors of who I am as a person in a relationship with others.

Recently, I’ve begun to wonder if the downfall of these relationships, which each, at the time, hurt me to the core, and, in some ways, continue to effect me in decisions I have made in the future, has been to my benefit. Have the ends of these relationships and their subsequent effects on me been due to how naive, ready to love, and head over heels I was before? Have their ends taken away my ability to love and be loved in that way again?

People often say that you must be able to love yourself in order to accept love of yourself from another. Currently, I doubt just how much I love myself. I am not forgiving myself for letting the things that happened in these relationships happen. I am not forgiving myself for being so vulnerable, with my head in the clouds about what love was and what I needed love to be for me. Those doubts have turned into a lack of love for myself, therefore not making it possible for someone else to want to develop those feelings towards me. Every relationship will crumble as long as I continue that attitude. I know that I deserve love, but I am angry with myself for letting love hurt me before. And if I cannot forgive myself, then I can never love myself, and neither can he.

Core of Peace

It’s just a small project, right? I mean, I’m just on the brink of re-vamping my life for the umpteenth time. How hard can it be? Last week I was informed that the show is closing. The general manager of that piece of musical genius that we’ve all been struggling to work through for the last 5 months will be closing in three weeks. It was actually quite a nice gesture of him to fly out from New York City to the depths of the asshole of America, Detroit, and tell us....Oh, and on the opening performance of our new leading lady. The level of tact that has, once again, been displayed is actually amazing. I am neither shocked, nor appalled anymore. Those have worn off, I believe, in Houston. Or maybe it was in Chelsea Studios.

So, we’re heading back to New York. I have a great deal to work on. Sooner than I’d planned, I’ll be working on a few things. Some are entitled “Broadway ’08”. Others have catchy little names like “Agent ’08”. I think you catch my drift. Up until recently I had added “Stop Sleeping With The Wrong Men ’08”, but I think that mistake may stick around a little while longer just to help me get through the rougher times ahead. I must admit, the thought of going to an audition right now has an interesting taste to it. I haven’t done it religiously, let alone as an Equity performer, in some time. I have a new energy behind much of what I want to accomplish. This energy is very different from that which I’d possessed at this time last year. I was taking a job to simply “pay the bills”. It was a job that I knew I would detest within a matter of a few weeks, which rang completely true. I put this job on a brief timeline. I told myself..... “Self, you are only going to be here until August.” You see, come August, I just knew that I’d end up with my Equity card, a new show (preferably a tour), and a new energy surge in my career outlook. They all happened almost exactly as I had planned. I put that energy into the universe in whichever way I could, and it came to fruition.

I am not one to believe that we are all simply magicians lying in state waiting for our true power to rise from it’s sleep and open all previously unlocked doors as if it were the simplest thing in the world. I do believe we have some power, but other factors must come into play as well. We cannot believe the old adage of the pre-fame movie star writing himself a check made out for a million dollars when he was neither famous, nor able to cash it, only to end up, shortly down the road, able to cash that very same check because he simply “put that energy into the universe”. I think if this magic did exist on the surface, there would be several more millionaires in the world, and I would be one of them.

Living life, to the best of our abilities, from the center or core of peace, where there are no selfish desires put out into the aforementioned universe, then we may be able to tap into, at least, a beginning portion of that magic. From there, I firmly believe, most anything could be possible. This is a large part of my current plan. There is a strange, new feeling of peace and positivity ruling over this “energy”, which makes me believe that I may be on the right track. I can’t wait to get back to my formerly bleak environment and create my new, bright world, or view on the world, through my new power. It may not be sure-fire, but, again, we’re dealing with a power I’ve been too afraid to use before.

Happy New, and Thank You.

I made a promise to myself a few months back that, as we were nearing the end of yet another year, I wouldn't reflect in the same way I have spent so many years' ends before. Of course, I would look back in some way. We all do. I'm only human.

When it gets easier to look back at the things that didn't happen, the jobs we didn't get, the dates we didn't go on, the person we didn't kiss, the person we kissed for the last time, or the one we watched kiss another, I think we're forgetting just how easy it is to accept the natural changes that happen as Winters shift to Springs....shift to Summers...shift to Autumns.

I am amazingly thankful for the spirit of the friends, family and situations that have surrounded me in the past year. I don't know if I say, or have said, "Thank you" enough. And actually saying it now, I think I could never say it enough. When people ask me to say something nice about myself, it seems vain and I oftentimes shy away, but I do have this to say; I pride myself on my ability to surround myself by people who's inner light and beauty shine so brightly that I can't help but walk towards it and embrace it with all of my might. I hold them and that light closely and I never want to be away from them, or watch that light go out.

There are people who choose to reside in melancholy. It is said that misery loves company, but I try to never visit that house. Like speaks to like.

I am taking this new year and using the light that shines from my friends to build whatever type of year I want. I hope it is one of success. I hope it is one of emotional profit and growth. I hope it is one of sharing and creating art. And to say it again, unheard or not, "Thank you".

That Holiday

I don't quite know who is at fault. Each year I never know who to blame when it dawns on me that my entire (and most immediate) family has absolutely no idea who I am as a human being and I, despite the faith that I continue to renew in them, have no idea exactly who they are. However, since this is actually my own personal "blog" that I am in control of, please forgive me as the following my be slightly swayed in my own favor. I trust my family to clear their names or slander mine in any sort of web publication of their own.

I'm not going to turn this into any sort of holiday rant. The ones that pseudo-intellectuals like to go on once a year in whatever the format may be. I just have a few things I need to get off my chesticles.

Thinking back, it could possibly come from years of stifling my true identity while surrounded by my family, but, well, let's just say that the older I got, the louder I got. It's just that someone is clearly not listening.

Opening up any back-issue of Jet or Ebony, one may be able to see the unfortunate trends that black men have been through over years. This is due, in part, to everyone's friend Dr. Heathcliff Huxtable and TDS (Those Damn Sweaters). Discovering that these sweaters actually do still exist and are for sale in several major department stores is, yes, quite scary. What the hell am I supposed to do with these?

Next (With Old Issues)

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I said I'm sorry.
I didn't feel anything.
I didn't mean it.
It wasn't real.

He said he knew me.
He said he needed me
there in that moment.
Then he would go.

I'm trying to plead.
I am begging to stay.
I would crawl on my knees
if you asked me to.

And all I ask is this...
That if it really is
over...
you say it's over.
If it's over
then you say it's over.

I didn't love him.
You know there's only you.
Watching you lifeless.
Baby, you want me too.

How could I tell you.
How could I even know.
I didn't notice
you'd already let me go.

Day 3 - waking up

There have been several conversations lately with friends regarding things (usually men) that used to be in our lives. The topics range from jobs, to relationships, to roommates. I think it has something to do with the end of the year. I'm kind of tired of spending every December the exact same way. Reflecting.

When I was a kid I couldn't wait to grow up. Couldn't get old fast enough. Everything was about what I could do when I was older. "When I'm 16, I'll get my driver's license!", "I can't wait until I'm 18 and out of this damn high school!", "Well, when I'm 21, this is what I'm going to drink."

We were in such a hurry to get to everything in the future. So, why is it that now that I have all of those things, I spend so much time in the past? Now that I have my own car, or after diplomas and degrees, after several Ketel One martinis (straight up, with a twist)....Why NOW am I not happy unless I'm spending time sifting through the past?

"He used to do that.", "Well, we slept together [a year ago] so it's alright to drunk text him, right, girl?", "Can we still do this...like we used to...and not get too attached?"

This is one of the happiest times in my life. I spent a large portion of the last year quite depressed. I had been out of work for the longest time in my life. I finally accepted an office job with a company that I rapidly grew to realize was one of the least inviting places for anyone with even one shred of creativity in their system. At the moment I was ready to tell my 4' 11" boss (who was about 6 years younger than me) where exactly he could go, I was offered a job doing the one thing in the world that I can't seem to live without. A job that would take me all over the country for the next year; to cities I'd never been to; meeting people who's talent, generosity, and spirit make me strive, daily, to be a little bit better at what I do. People I genuinely, and already in such a short time, enjoy.

In the midst of this "happiest time in my life", somehow I've still made time for all things past (or passed). I go through so much of my life alone. It does seem strange that if, for example, some "man" (or any other person for that matter) who was "there for me" some 2 years ago, wouldn't be there now. I could see the initial shock of that departure being relative. But, if he (or whoever) were that important, where were they during that really ugly 365 day period? And why are you still texting? And why are you still, in some cases, "sex"ting?

Alone. It's not a bad place. I've handled my shit. And sometimes I've even handled it well. No one else is responsible for the joy I have inside. That is such a pleasant feeling. I am not ignorant of my surroundings or situations that may have changed and given me a new view.

If I am "by myself", living with just me, dealing with just me, taking care of me when I'm sick, cooking for me, taking me out for a night on the town, taking me out to see a friend in a show, taking me out to meet with friends for drinks; If that qualifies, then YES, I am learning to love alone. I'm learning to rejoice a little bit more than I reflect. I am learning to love, alone.

Day 2 - on this new space

I have an overwhelming urge to clean. Well, not just clean, but completely throw almost everything I own into the trash. I am creating space. The space I came home to wasn't clear enough and I'm trying to make it clearer. At least it's warmer...Now that my land-lesbians have actually done something about the heat in this apartment.

This clutter-removal process has brought up some things in the few short hours it's been going on. Letters, notes you write to yourself to remind yourself about yourself; Pictures, some you took of yourself, but mostly by yourself of other selves to remind you of yourselves; Books, some you read, some you just made notes in the margins. When do you actually go back and re-read the margins? I do. I actually do. I think that makes me strange.

Something I found that everyone should read.

There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening
that is translated through you into action,
and because there is only one of you in all time,
this expression is unique.

If you block it,
it will never exist through any other medium
and be lost.
The world will not have it.
It is not your business to determine how good it is;
nor how valuable it is;
nor how it compares with other expressions.
It is your business to keep it yours, clearly and directly,
to keep the channel open.

You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work.
You have to keep open and aware directly
to the urges that motivate you.

Keep the channel open.
No artist is pleased.
There is no satisfaction whatever at any time.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction;
a blessed unrest that keeps us marching
and makes us more alive than the others.

- Martha Graham to Agnes DeMille

I think it's a great day to clean the house.